What Can I Give You In Return?
by ValerieVincent
Summary: Kurt had never imagined it would turn out like this..


Depressingly, it would seem as though Rachel Berry and I have common interests. Of course, I am a little more subtle with my intentions. Okay, I suppose that doesn't tell you but I really like Mr Schuester, or Will as I've come to call him.

I know that being the only outed gay guy in this joke of a school is really dangerous, and I'm not going to add to my 'abnormality' by publicly lusting after a teacher as well.

But even I can't deny how attractive the man actually is. I mean, sure he's a little on the unnecessarily narcissistic side, but so am I. If he hadn't been married, and constantly been mooning over Miss Pillsbury, I would suspect him to be a fully raging homo.

But unfortunately, aside from his habits I have yet to see any actions to remotely resemble any interest he might have in men. And we all learnt from Rachels less than subtle confrontations that he would never consider ever getting with a student. Ever. But still, a young man is allowed to dream right?

Oh dear, even for an honorary girl such as myself, I'm starting to sound pretty damn crazy. Honestly, thinking about Will does this to me. I can't concentrate in Glee anymore, I just sit there and stare at him, only singing lyrics when they're appropriate to how I'm feeling - which is usually pretty miserable.

I think he's noticed. But he won't ask me what's wrong. No, he couldn't do that incase he learns something about being gay that he didn't want to know.

I always used to think he was intolerant, homophobic. But now I've come to realize he's just naive. He doesn't know, and he's scared of what he doesn't know. I wish I could just kiss him and say, "There! Was it really that bad?" but I can't.

I wish there was someone I could talk to about this. I wouldn't dream of going to my Dad. He can't handle the Boys bit, let alone the Teacher bit. But I don't expect him to handle it, or to give me advice, because all I ever needed was for him to still love me and he does. Besides, that would be so awkward.

Normally, I would talk to Mercedes, or one of my girls, they've all usually had the same experiences as me, but I just can't. This is one secret that I will never tell.

The school does have a guidance counsellor, Miss Pillsbury, but as far as I know she's kind of in love with Will too. What if I didn't say who he is, or that he's a teacher, I'll just say he's an older male.

...

I can't believe I was seriously considering that. I cannot tell anyone about this. I make enough of a spectacle of myself. Anyway, I just wish I could talk to someone. Or maybe even him. But, I can't talk to him. I know, if I did talk to him, I'd use a song.

I've wanted to sing to him for a while actually. But every song I think of is far too inappropriate. I told Finn, during our Ballads assignment, to sing to an imaginary audience of who he wanted to tell his message to.

I made up my mind to sing it off, and maybe I could make sense of what to do about the Will situation.

...

So I just completely zoned out of what Will was telling us, and I saw everyone leaving and realized Glee was over.

Walking up to Mr Schue, I asked him if I could use the auditorium this afternoon. Then I sort of froze. There are two major things wrong with what just happened, and I know Mr Schue noticed it too.

First off, I have never asked to use the auditorium; I just waltz in and if no one's there, it's mine. Secondly, I asked if I could use it for practice. That wouldn't normally be a worry, except for the fact that because Regionals were over, we didn't really have any more assignments yet, therefore giving him every right to interrogate me with his questions.

So mentally, I was cursing myself because Will said, "Sure, no problem Kurt." with this ridiculously obviously devious grin, which quite frankly scared me.

Nevertheless, I smiled and turned to go to the auditorium, leaving him in the choir room. So I thought.

Once I was on stage, thankfully on my own, the band being on their annual camp, I immediately started to sing along to my secret favourite song that wasn't from Broadway or any musicals, coming from the cd player. I think every person I knew, bar my dad, would laugh at me if they knew how much I loved the Davinyls... There, I said it.

So maybe that's two secrets I'll never tell. I started to sing, really getting into the song, swinging my hips and grinding against some imaginary form, all until I heard it.

He's so amusing how he managed to pick one of the few chairs that squeak when you sit in them. Unfortunately, due to the fact that I had just wrapped my right leg around the microphone stand, whilest singing the chorus, "When I think about you...", I wasn't particularly amused. As I saw him, in my stupor I mumbled "I touch myself?" as more of a question.

Will just stared at me, with my shirt half hanging off, hair shaken out of place and with a pretty seductive expression on my face. I didn't directly look at him, more at the first few rows of chairs in front of him.

Still looking pretty dumbfounded, he spoke,

"I wondered if you were okay. You seemed really out of it during Glee, then you asked, actually asked to use the auditorium, so I thought I should come check that you're okay."

He looked really uncomfortable, and he seemed to have another question, so I invited him to ask it.

"Is there anything wrong Mr Schue?"

He looked stunned for a second, then a little confused.

"Kurt, may I ask, was that song directed at anyone, I mean, is there, no, who was, umm, do you need any help with anything?"

He eventually got the question out, and the cuteness dimmed some of my blush, but I was still pretty red, which seemed to answer his question. He smiled awkwardly said goodbye and left.

I sat down on the edge of the stage, knees spread hanging over the edge and sighed to myself. That would've been so easy, he could have found out, I could said something, God that was too close.

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. I wish I could tell him, just hold him and kiss him, show him how much he means to me and how much I want to help him.

In my despair, I saw his feet enter my line of vision, and quickly looked up as he moved to sit beside me. Staring ahead he told me,

"Whoever that was about, they're pretty lucky. I wish I could sing something like that. You're an amazing performer Kurt, despite the nature of the song.."

He chuckled nervously at that.

"If you like someone Kurt, why aren't you telling them? You of all people aren't the kind to hide how you feel. I'm here if you need to talk to someone about it, I'll try my best. I know you probably don't want to talk to your dad about it. Who knows, we might be able to help each other out, what do you say?"

I sort of just stared at him as if he'd just told me his previous life was Shirley Temple.

"Umm, Mr Schue? So many things just confused me. A) that isn't necessarily about anyone, it's my favourite pop song that isn't GaGa, but it was about someone.."

Shit! Why did I just tell him that? Still, I continued,

"B) I didn't understand what you meant about helping each other out, what can I possibly help you with? C) thank you for offering- you were right, I can't really tell my dad. But I can't tell you either; I don't think you want to have this conversation with a homo."

I stood up and moved to leave. I know what I'd said would upset him, that wasn't what he'd been trying to say at all but God was I confused, and I couldnt think with him near me.

"Stop right there mister. I know what you're trying to do. It isn't going to work this time. Now sit back here, unless you want to go somewhere else, grab a coffee or something. Kurt, please, I want to help."

I froze, mentally screaming to myself, "THATS A DATE!" before I turned around and calmly accepted.

He smiles back at me and I decided if was the best feeling to put that smile there. He stood up, then joined me in leaving the auditorium after I turned off the mic.

We walked toward his car, where I remembered to ring my dad again and tell him I was going to be home a little later and that I was spending the afternoon at the mall.

Will looked at me until I explained to him,

"He's paranoid that I'm off with some randy teenage boy will take advantage of me, and I don't think he's ready for any of this, any contact I have with men, I must be dating him.

According to Sadie, it's not much different for girls, I don't know how they deal with it all the time."

I finished my little speech and he actually didn't look too uncomfortable, rather content to see me a little more back to my usual self. He smiled again and my heart melted.

At his invitation I sat in the passenger seat of his car, and watched him hit his head as he got in the car. I rubbed his head as he turned the key, then did his seatbelt.

My eyes couldn't help but follow his hands trailing across his hips, which, of course he noticed. However, he chose to ignore my blush, even when I turned my head.

He coughed and turned on the radio as we backed out of the parking lot.

After the four minutes of pointless commercials ended, the last song for some countdown started to play. When I heard the all-too familiar beat, I stared at the radio, then at Will; who was staring at the radio.

After a moment in which neither of us spoke, we both simultaneously burst into laughter. There had to be some deity up here, I decided, to play The Davinyls while I was in his car. I felt like smacking my forehead.

I arrived at mall with Mr Schuester and we both got out of the car; he didn't hit his head this time. I giggled as he locked his car, at the very Tom Cruise-esque look he threw over his shoulder. He looked at me for a moment and I saw the look only one other person had ever given me.

My mother used to stare at me like my teacher currently was with such a look of love. But I must be mistaken, because Will is neither gay nor a molester. I pushed my wishful thinking aside and smiled at him, heading toward the food court in the mall. He quickly stepped into pace beside me, but much to my dismay he kept his distance. I sighed to myself, at least he's here.

I attempted to strike up a small conversation, asking him what troubles he was having that I could help with. Secretly I was praying he was just going to say I LOVE YOU and make my day, but deep down I knew there's no way he would.

"I feel kinda awkward asking this, and no offence Kurt, but to be asking a teenager but I honestly havnt got a clue who I could talk to about this."

I was of course very interested by this little speech, having a ridiculously absurd idea as to what this is about.

Pressing forward I asked,

"Mr Schue? I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong. Trust me, of everyone in this cowtown I am probably one of the most tolerant. You can trust me. Now, what's bothering you?"

He smiled at me shyly for a minute, before getting really embarrassed and looking down at his shoes. He quietly mumbled out,

"I think I like one of my students..."

I could not believe what I just heard. I thought he was going to ask me what to wear on a date with Miss Pillsbury. That still doesn't quite explain..

"But why me? What can I do to help you? Do you want me to stalk them."

Now he looked pretty uncomfortable and I realized that there was more to this.

"Mr Schue?"

"Kurt, I. It's, it's because he's a he..."

He stared ahead and sighed, seemingly so confused and saying that out loud might not have helped.

"Oh."

I looked up at the man I loved, and smiled sadly at him, waiting for him to look up. When he eventually raised his head, I saw the dampness in his eyes.

I felt so bad for him, realizing how hard it must be for a grown man to admit that, it was so much easier for a teenager, at least when it comes to accepting yourself.

"How long?"

I asked him a simple question that seemed to unwind him. He started to cry in he middle of the parking lot, just outside he mall.

"I was so sure of my life Kurt, now I'm having these new feelings and then with a student and oh god I shouldn't be out here with you! This should be illegal, I should be sent to prison."

He continued to break down and I wanted to hug him and tell him it's okay, you're no different, we can work it out. But I would be lying. He is different now, and the only thing can do to help is tell him what to expect.

I'd like to go back to his car and get him somewhere safe where he won't get slandered for crying, but he insists we go drinking.

Being 18, I escorted him to a nearby liquor store and let him pick one bottle of his choice- so of course he chooses a bottle of spirits, couldn't have picked beer..

I get to him to the desk and we pay, before I explain to the cashier that he's had a horrid day when they stare at him crying. As we walk out of the mall, he has already downed about a third of the bottle.

"Mr Schue, I don't think we should go anywhere but home from here. Here, we'll just go back to your car and.."

he flinched when I lightly brushed his shoulder to turn him around, as I expected. But I didn't think he'd look up at me when he realized he had, and softly whisper that he was sorry.

I took that as sign that it was okay to touch him, and used the opportunity to gently hug him, before leading him back to his car.

As we walked, I hummed an old nursery my mother used to sing to me. He seemed to stop crying and noticed I was humming.

"What is that song Kurt?" he asked me, "I don't think I've ever heard it."

Taking another gulp of his drink, he giggled at me. I explained to him that no, he probably hadn't heard it, because it was an old German nursery rhyme. He smiled at me, and said it sounded nice. I smiled back, saying I'd sing it for him sometime.

When we got back to his car, he was still upset, but had stopped crying since I'd started humming.

I felt so bad for him, and gently rubbed circles on his back as he leant against the door. He fumbled to get the keys, and I took them from his hand, asking him if he minded me driving his car. He said it was fine, and slid in the passenger seat, hitting his head again.

Once we were settled I started the engine and began to back out.

As we drove along, I started to sing the nursery rhyme again,

"Das Mannlein steht im Walde ganz, still und stumm.

Es hat von lauter purpur ein Mantlein um.."

He looked up and smiled again. I cannot believe what exactly is happening at the moment, because I don't usually drive teachers in their cars because they're so miserable and drunk. But Mr Schue is special to me as I believe I've established.

Besides, if I can help him with this issue, he might come back to me when it fails.

"Sagt, wer mag das Mannlein sein,

Das da steht im Wald allein

Mit dem purpurrotten Manntelein.."

I looked over at him, and saw him staring at me, much like a child. I don't know why, but he asks me if I remember singing 'A House Is Not A Home' and I replied yes, of course.

"Kurt..." he starts, I worry that whatever he asks I won't be able to deny him,

"Kurt, will you help me? Help me make my house a home? Come home with me Kurt? Come make it home."

I stared at him, stared long and hard before I asked him,

"Who is the student that you're so worked up over? How have they got you into such a mess Will.."

He stared straight at me and I thought he'd suddenly sobered up, until he said,

"You. Kurt, you. It's always been you, I love you so much. God, come home?"

Then I lost it. I couldn't help but try to wrestle the bottle from his grip. But he quickly won and held the bottle out of my reach.

"If you want it, you have to get it." and he poured it in his mouth, but did not swallow.

I was so transfixed by his lips around the bottle, and his sing song voice, I leaned in..

He smiled that he had won and consequentially dribbled his spirits all over himself. I giggled a little when he pouted, and quickly lent over to kiss his lips.

...

In my bedroom that night, I replayed the Davinyls from my iPod and decides that it would be our song.


End file.
